John Berger writes, "Urban living has always tended to produce a sentimental view of nature.  Nature is thought of as a garden, or a view framed by a window, or as an arena of freedom.  Peasants, nomads, sailors have known better.  Nature is energy and struggle.  It is what exists without any promise. . .its energy is fearsomely indifferent." ("The White Bird", Sense of Sight)

I read this and think of my soul's pull towards Henry County, Kentucky and wonder what I am after as I browse the real estate ads and listings for vacant land.  I am especially interested in the impossible-to-finance acreage-without-edifice.  Among my many recent lessons:  banks do not finance land if there is no house on it.  Would a bank finance a yurt. . .?  The scheming commences. . .

Henry Co. is not wild; the land was allotted to man by man long ago, but it is my way station between city sidewalks and the open ocean or an encounter with a bear.  I need to step outside with my morning coffee and commune with some fearsomely indifferent land.  And a wild sheep or two.

Friday evening, at Menagerie at Shine, I bought upcycled pot holders from Lunar Laundry.  Little abstract landscapes:

Yesterday's passenger: Maude.  She is on her way to rescue in Minnesota.

Happy girl.